


Bonfire Bonding

by LittleMissPixieStix



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Bonding, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 15:51:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4631145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissPixieStix/pseuds/LittleMissPixieStix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Running off the high of their latest victory, the team has a small bonfire to celebrate.  Scout's excited about the idea and can't wait for the night to roll around.</p><p>A request from superkermit3421: Something where Scout bonds with the rest of the team? Individual or all together, it’s up to you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bonfire Bonding

**Author's Note:**

> Fic orignally posted here: http://littlemissfemscout.tumblr.com/post/127324053217/bonfire-bonding  
> Likes or reblogs on tumblr appreciated, but by no means required. =)

The team had been hinting at the idea of a small bonfire for a while now, but the victory today and the cool night weather were basically asking for it.  

And if those weren’t, then Scout peppering the team with hints that tonight would be  _great_ for a bonfire, and, hey, whoa, did they have marshmallows for tonight because s’mores, made fresh over a  _fire_ , were great and they should totally make some  _tonight_ was enough to tell the team what the boy was wanting.

It got to the point where the team was wondering if Pyro had somehow switched places with Scout, because the Bostonian had never held as much of an interest in fire as he had leading up to that night.

Eventually, after a bit of tracking people down and forcing them outside, everyone was around the fire outside of Sniper’s camper.  Scout was noticeably bouncing up and down with excitement, as was Pyro.  For the younger boy, though, this display of enthusiasm over a fire was a surprise.

“Settle down there, Scout, or you might bounce away,” Engineer finally said with a laugh, “What about this fire’s gotten you so excited?”

“Almost scared to give you some s’mores, Scout, seein’ as you’re this hyper already,” Sniper said, nursing the flame up into a small, contained blaze, “Haven’t you ever gone campin’ before?”

“Nope,” Scout said, “Nah, this is the first time I’ve done anything like this.”

“Never went campin’ with your old man?” Sniper asked, unknowingly bumbling into what some of the team thought was an off-limit discussion.  Maybe if the man left his camper more often, he would have known this before now.

“Nope, I don’t have a father,” Scout anti-climatically replied with a shrug, “I mean, I have one, I jus’ don’t know who he is or where he is.  Ma says he likes to disappear a lot.”

If it weren’t for the loud crackle and pop of the now-roaring fire, Scout might have heard Spy cough and choke on a bad inhalation.  Seeing as how the man could sometimes be a walking smoke factory, it probably wasn’t the smoke from the fire that had had tickled his throat.

“Can we make s’mores now?” Scout asked, “I’ve never made them over a fire before an’ I wanna.”

“Sure you can,” Engineer replied with a chuckle, “You need any help, just say so.”

The Texan then grew distracted by Pyro, who had grabbed a few marshmallows already and was now trapped in a sticky mess that was getting worse the more they tried to clean it off their gloves and, somehow, already, their mask.

Scout, holding the bag of marshmallows, looked around for some sort of stick.  The problem with being stationed out in the desert was the short, probably nonexistent, supply of sticks that came from the lack of trees around here.

“How we gonna do the skewering thing without the skewers?” Scout asked with a frown, “ We have something that’ll work, right?”

“Got something that’ll work in m’van,” Sniper said as he stood up, “Just hang on a mo.”

“Could you use your hand, Engie?”

“You know I’m not going to do that, Scout” The Texan replied patiently.

“Yeah, but  _could_ you?”

“I suppose technically, if I wanted to risk overheating the circuts or clogging them up with melted marshmallow, yes,” Engineer replied, “But I’m not gonna.”

“What good’s a robo-hand if you can’t roast marshmallows with it?” Scout asked, “Hey, Demo’s got a sword!  Demo-”

“Ye’ cannae’ have m’sword, lad,” Demoman replied, holding the marshmallow covered tip over the flame, “He’s already angry enough ‘bout this.”

“Who’s angry?” Scout asked, “Solly?”

“No, I am  _not_ angry,” Soldier said, peering at Scout from under his helmet.

“For once,” Demo murmured with a smile.

“You take that back, DeGroot, I am the calmest member of this team!”

“Think Engineer’s got you beat for that.”

“The second calmest!”

“Sniper.”

“Third?”

“Spy.

“Fourth.”

“That’d be me,” Demo said, “Give it up, Jane.  Ye’ aren’t the calmest here by a long shot.”

“Who’s angry again?” Scout asked.

“The sword,” Soldier said.

“The sword’s pissed off?” Scout asked, a confused look on his face, “...How?”

“Eyelander’s not happy ‘bout bein’ a skewer,” Demo replied.

“Swords can’t do that not happy stuff,” Scout said, “...Can they?”

“Can I cut his head off?” A new voice asked, “That will make this sticky hell  _tolerable_.”

“For the tenth time today, Eyelander, no,” Demo calmly said, “I told ye’ that there’ll be no more chopping off heads tonight.  Tomorrow.”

“...Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please with a hot, sticky, burning hot marshmallow on top?”

“No.”

“He said please, Tavish,” Jane said.

“An’ I said no,” Demo replied, “An’ that means ‘no’, even if ye’ throw a thousand pleases m’way.”

“Fine,” the glowing sword huffed, “Can Jane hold me for a minute?”

“Can I?” Soldier asked.

“ _No.”_ Demo said, “And I don’ want to hear any more questions like this out of wither of ye’ or so help me I’ll find a way to keep the two of you on the sidelines tomorrow.”

Tavish’s threat seemed to quiet the two of them down and he roasted his marshmallow in peace.  The rest of the team had been stunned into silence, or had already been aware of the sword’s vocal abilites, and the only noise for a few moments was the sound of a fire.

“How long’s your sword been able to do that?” Scout finally asked, now holding a skewer Sniper had found him.

“Long as I had it.”

“It annoying?”

“Sometimes,” Demo replied with a grin, “Other times it’s not.  Depends on both our moods.  When Eyelander’s feelin’ grumpy, no one is goin’ to be happy.”

“He’s grumpy now, isn’t he?”

“You bet your head he is,” Tavish replied, pulling the sword tip back out of the fire ,” Speaking of that, be sure to keep your distance, Scout, if ye’ want to keep yer’ head attached.”

“I’ll be stayin’ over here, yeah, thanks,” Scout said, scooting back a bit for good measure.

“Scout,” Heavy said, one of the first words the Russian had spoken all night, “Marshmallow is on fire.”

“What?  No, it’s in the fire, because I need to-” Scout looked down at his food, “Aw, crap, it is on fire.”

The boy pulled it out of the flames, but there was nothing he could do.  His formerly fluffy, white puff of fluff had been reduced to a black, charred mess that looked like a snack from hell.  The marshmallow was even still on fire.  

Pyro, seeing what looked like the cutest little fire on a stick ever, reached over for Scout’s skewer and wiggled their gloved fingers in a silent request for the stick.  Scout, with a defeated sigh, handed over the skewer and was thanked with a happy, muffled words that may have been of thanks from Pyro.

While his flame-loving team mate was busy lovingly staring at the burning food, Engineer handed Scout another skewer, making up for the one that Pyro had taken.

“I got it this time,” Scout said, shoving another marshmallow on to the skewer, “I’m gonna make the best s’more here.”

“Negative, private,” Soldier said, picking up a skewer of his own, “I will be making the best s’more here!”

“You’ll both have to beat Demo to do that,” Sniper noted., nodding towards the Scotsman’s near-perfect s’more.

“And I’m gonna,” Scout said, leaning back slightly.

As calming as the fire was, Scout soon grew bored of staring at it and started looking around.  As soon as he looked up, he was mesmerized by the abundance of stars above.

“Whoa,” He said, amazement in his voice, “You guys ever see so many stars?”

“Yep,” Sniper replied, with the Engineer, Medic, Heavy, and Demoman nodding their replies.

“Well, I haven’t,” Scout said, eyes flickering from star to star, “Isn’t there supposed to be a spoon up there?”

“You mean zhe big dipper?” Medic asked, “Or zhe little one?”

“The big one, sure, why not?” Scout said, “Where’s it?”

As Medic started to explain where different constellation were to Scout, the Bostonian’s marshmallow caught on fire again.  Carefully, the Engineer lifted the skewer out of Scout’s hands, without the boy noticing, and cleaned it off.  He then began roasting a marshmallow for Scout, because with this marshmallow death rate, Scout wasn’t going to ever get one.

“Where’s the north star?” Scout asked, leaning back on his hands, “One of these stars is the north-i-est, right?  Which one’s it?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Medic said, gazing upward.

“North star is that one,” Heavy said, “Brightest one over there.  See?”

‘That one?” Scout said, sitting up and futilely pointing up towards the million stars in the night sky, “Yeah, I can it.  That’s cool, man.”

Engineer gently placed the skewer back into Scout’s hands, the boy too distracted by the stars to notice.  Then the Texan cleared his throat, getting the boy’s attention.

“Your marshmallow seems to be about done there, Scout,” He said, “Might want to think about taking it out and getting your s’more set up.”

“Now look at that,” Scout said, proudly holding the perfectly toasted marshmallow up for the others to see, “You ever see a better marshmallow?  I didn’t think so.”

Sniper passed Scout the chocolate and graham crackers so his team mate could start crafting his snack.  Scout was clumsy when it came to the assembly, and he was having difficulty holding all of the parts and getting things where they need to stick.  Taking pity on the boy, and not wanting to see his food smack into the desert floor, Engineer helped Scout make the s’more.  

Scout, now done with the skewer, passed it off to Sniper and got ready to dig into his food.

“Might want to hold on a sec to give your food a chance ta’ cool,” Sniper said, “You burn your mouth, you’re probably not gonna be able to taste your food.”

“Fiiiiine,” Scout said, impatiently waiting and staring at his snack.  

He didn’t wait long enough in the end, and started taking small nibbles until he felt it was cool enough for him to start really eating it.

“You having fun, Scout?” Engineer asked, now roasting a marshmallow of his own, “You seemed pretty excited about this whole thing.”

“Ohm, mm, mm hmm,” Scout replied with a big grin, his mouth full of his s’more, “Mmm, hmmm, ‘m havming funm.”

The night, and the s’more making, had barely started, but Scout was already having a blast.  This night with his team had Scout feeling happy, and he was enjoying every second of it.

This was the best s’more-making, not camping trip he had ever had, and he got the feeling that nothing was ever going to change that.


End file.
